


Just This (Five Times for Ray and Fraser)

by DesireeArmfeldt



Category: due South
Genre: American Frottage Day, Challenge Response, Fluff, Frottage, Love, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Call of the Wild, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:19:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesireeArmfeldt/pseuds/DesireeArmfeldt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Ray and Fraser engaged in frottage (not that Ray's calling it that).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just This (Five Times for Ray and Fraser)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for seascribe's American Frottage Day challenge. Porn without plot, or even all that much porn, really.

**1.**

In the tent, it was barely like having sex at all.  Both of them wrapped up in so many layers, Ray couldn’t feel Fraser’s body at all.  He might as well have been humping a giant pillow.

Except a pillow wouldn’t breathe fast and shallow like a scared animal and then stop breathing entirely.  A pillow wouldn’t murmur Ray’s name over and over in a voice that sounded like it was swallowing broken glass.  A pillow wouldn’t hold Ray tight as he came and still be wrapped around him when he woke up in the morning.

 

**2.**

The first time they actually got naked together, in Ray’s actual bedroom, Ray kind of went nuts.  He’d had _plans_ , all these fantasies to put into practice, but Fraser put his hand on Ray’s bare skin—just on his shoulder!—and Ray totally lost it.  He tumbled Fraser backwards onto the bed and latched onto him with all four limbs, and God! Fraser’s skin against his own was like the shock of falling into icy water, only warm, so warm.  He couldn’t give that up—couldn’t have let go of Fraser if someone had put a gun to his head.  Fraser’s grip on Ray was just as tight, not even groping him, just hanging on.  So they just rolled around on top of each other, panting and laughing and kissing whatever they could reach, until they finally collapsed in a sticky, sweaty jumble of limbs.

When Ray got his wind back, he lifted up his head, thinking to maybe apologize.  But Fraser looked right back at him like Ray was his own private showing of the Northern Lights.  So Ray shut up and kissed him instead.

They got around to all those plans eventually, anyhow.

 

**3.**

August in Chicago is the one thing Ray knows of that actually slows Fraser down.  He tries not to show it, but Ray knows, and once they get home, Fraser drops the act and lets himself sag. Lets Ray steer him into the bathroom, strip him, and practically manhandle him into the shower.  He could take care of himself, but he’s just beat enough to let Ray take care of him instead. 

When the water hits him, Fraser groans like he’s coming.  By the time Ray gets in there with him, Fraser’s soaked and sighing with pleasure as the water sluices over his upturned face.  With his eyes still closed, he crowds Ray back against the wall, covering Ray’s body with his own.  Pinned between cold tile and hot flesh, Ray wraps his arms around Fraser’s back and hangs on tight as Fraser rocks against him, strong and gentle, like they’ve got all the time in the world, like nothing exists anymore but the two of them and the liquid fire bubbling up between them, melting them down into one person.

 

**4.**

They don’t normally make out on the job.  Fraser’s too responsible for that, and Ray’s too smart.

But sometimes, as Fraser would put it, Ray gets the devil in him. 

He closes the supply closet door behind them and gives Fraser his best wicked smile.

“Really, I hardly think—” Fraser starts with a prim frown, but his eyes betray him by wandering to Ray’s hands instead of his face.

Ray steps forward, trapping Fraser against the wall, and slides his hands into Fraser’s back pockets.  (Fraser’s in jeans today, which is why Ray dared to do this in the first place.  With Fraser in uniform, he wouldn’t stand a chance.)  He rubs his hips up against Fraser’s. Fraser’s got a bulge in his pants to match Ray’s, oh yeah.

Ray loves it when they’re on the same page.  Even if Fraser hasn’t admitted it yet.

“I dare you,” he says.

“Don’t be childish,” says Fraser, shaking his head, even as his own hands grab Ray’s butt and tug him even closer.

 

**5.**

Fraser sleeps like a corpse, except when he dreams.  The dreams never seem to wake him, even when he ends up waking Ray.

Last night was one of the bad ones.  Head thrashing, hands restless.  Muttering _No_ and _Please_ and _Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry_.  Ray rubbed one of Fraser’s hands between both of his, saying _Frase, Frase,_ low and steady, until Fraser’s eyes snapped open.

“Ray,” he said, and Ray said, “Yeah,” and Fraser rolled Ray over on top of him like a blanket.

They lay there for a while, with Ray’s nose smooshed into the pillow and Fraser’s hair tickling his ear, just breathing in sync.  Ray wouldn’t have thought he could fall asleep in that position, but he must have, because then it was morning, and he was sprawled over Fraser’s side of the bed, alone.

Tonight, though, Fraser’s having the other kind of dream.  Ray shifts out of sleep into warm, dreamy arousal, with Fraser’s erection pressing against his ass in a slow, insistent rhythm.

“Hey.”  Ray nudges his ass back against Fraser’s crotch.

“Mmp?” grunts Fraser into Ray’s neck.  His cock brushes over Ray’s asshole and heads south, between Ray’s legs. 

“You want to have sex with me, you could at least wake up.”

“Mkay,” Fraser mumbles, but then he really does wake up some, because the next thing he says is, “Sorry,” and his hips stop moving.

Ray gets a hand on Fraser’s hip and pushes back again, squeezing his thighs around Fraser’s cock.

“Didn’t say stop.  Just said wake up.”

“Ah.  My mistake.”  Fraser’s voice is velvety with sleep and sex and affection, and his cock nudges Ray’s balls as his crotch presses tight up against Ray’s ass.  Arousal oozes through Ray like melting butter.  He rocks his hips back to meet Fraser’s forward roll—yeah, there’s a rhythm they can dance to, sweet and lazy.  At some point he’s going to need more, but right now, nothing could be better than this slow burn, with Fraser’s breath damp on his neck. 


End file.
